The Unbreakable Bonds of Family: A Poetic Reflection

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 wistful woman sitting outside building

Photo by Alexander Zvir on Pexels.com

The Unbreakable Bonds of Family: A Poetic Reflection

The heart's vast, inexplicable room
Knows no boundary, feels no gloom,
Refuses to tally "by blood" or not,
Or ledger a love that can't be bought.
It scorns the line, the legal draw,
In the deep, emotional valley of awe.

For a lifetime, this house was the core,
The table as full as the love I bore.
I was the anchor in a whirlwind wide,
A universe where eleven reside.
From my body sprang three, a simple truth,
But all eleven are mine, from age to youth.

Yet a cruel, invisible wall now starts to rise,
Built of "stay away," and "move on" lies.
A denial of all I’ve fiercely done,
As if this life-love could be undone,
Commanded to vanish like dust on the wind,
A heart-breaking suggestion, absurdly pinned.

They demand a silence, my place declared gone,
Insist my role is over, my duty withdrawn.
But the only sound now in the empty space,
Where joyful chaos once set the pace,
Is the aching echo of my own soul's flight,
A profound absence in the day and night.

To be a mother is not just a name,
It is the pulse of my breath, the fire's flame.
To be severed from this state of being,
Does not feel like sadness, but an unseen,
Quiet death, a function ceased to be,
The soul's deep purpose taken from me.

This rupture leaves a canyon, deep and vast,
A grief that cuts, a shadow overcast.
The paradox of standing right here, inside,
In a house where memories forever hide,
Yet feeling a terror, a vast aloneness known.
I only wish to let the sorrow flow, to be thrown.

For when a person gives their whole heart's grace,
Not a fraction, but the whole of their place,
To a family woven, intricate and fine,
It is not a simple task to sever the line.
"You should not," "you cannot be," the thorns press in,
A relentless, sharp, psychological sin.

They fail to see the fundamental truth:
A mother's love is not a choice, in age or youth.
It's not a contract that has an end date shown,
It is the world I inhabit, the air I have grown
To breathe, the foundation built with endless care,
The immovable base of the life I share.



More Works by Nancy Ann Creed 








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